(Dis)approval
by Dr Gonzo
Summary: A collection of vignettes set in various realities exploring the often insane lengths Inquisitors must go to to keep Skyholds residents happy, or at least off the Inquisitor's back ...Thanks to the members of Dragon Age GFC on Facebook for their assistance.
1. Trevelyan 1 Blackwall Disapproves

**Approval** Disapproval

Author: B.H. Ramsay

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I claim nothing, which is what YOU'LL get if you sue me; nothing. Consider yourselves disclaimed.

Rating: Teen

Dedication: Thanks to Drakependragon and the gang at FB Dragon Age Fans

Summary: The Inquisition's allies have some strange foibles quirks and pet peeves, a few vignettes concerning them.

* * *

 **Blackwall Disapproves**

8

9

The only thing that saved Blackwall's head from the thrown glass exploding against the wall was his fast reflexes and his momentary hesitation at Evelyn Trevelyan's door, at the time it seemed a cowardly gesture, now it seemed a sensible precaution.

As it was, he was scarred by shards of broken glass.

He paused a moment longer fearing other missiles but it appeared Evelyn had satisfied her immediate desire for destruction... if only briefly.

"A good throw." Blackwall quipped.

"Maker; Blackwall, I'm so sorry," she leapt across the room snatching up his hands and peering at them closely. The cuts were largely superficial.

"It's just a couple of scratches my ladyship hardly worth fussing over." The burly warrior sputtered trying to hide how much Evelyn's attentions pleased him.

And why not, her straw colored hair and elfin features made her look like one of the ancient race but her normally shaped ears and thick athletic body marked her as human, although she did share the pale skin most mages were known for.

Years spent studying magic in the darkened archives of The Circle of Magi did not lend itself to acquiring the ruddy honed-by-the-wilderness physique Blackwall himself possessed.

She'd recently embraced the magical knowledge of The. ..what had that pampered peacock witch Vivienne called them, oh yes, Knight Enchanters.

Her teaching instructor had her running the battlements every morning in essentially her small clothes.

Not that anyone would negatively comment. She was leader of the Inquisition after all. If she wanted to run about in small clothes, there were no small amount of people who would take it as the Maker's will made manifest.

And besides, her combat prowess was becoming nothing short of unreal The central throne room's growing collection of High Dragon skulls was chilling testimony of her power and savagery in battle.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at his male posturing pulling his hand closer. Warm light filled her eyes and seemed to flow down through her body to her hands.

Blackwall watched the wounds and cuts close up leaving not even a scar to mark their presence.

"You can heal?" Blackwall marvelled, "shouldn't you be down helping the soldiers and all the refugees?"

The courtyard of the Inquisition fortress known as Skyhold was full to the bursting with fleeing citizens hoping to catch a glimpse of Evelyn Trevelyan.

Grand High Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste, sign of The Maker's grace in the midst of these dark and uncertain times.

The truth was much much more complicated and the overall refusal by the throngs of penitent souls to accept Trevelyan's denials of her divinity had lead her to, as much as possible, avoid the camps. If only so the medics and healing mages could do their work without the distraction that was inevitable whenever the Herald of Andraste was forced to traverse Skyholds public areas like the Chantry Garden or the Clinic in the lower courtyard.

"Thank you for voicing my own guilt," The Inquisitor replied dryly, "I'll just fit it into the few spare moments I have when I'm not closing rifts, fighting Corypheus' minions or trying to master Commander Helana's lessons."

Blackwall wasn't as comfortable with sarcasm as the dwarf Varric or the elven girl Sera. Even Trevelyan possessed a kind of grim gallows humor that occasionally grated on him.

He sensed it in the Hinterlands when they'd first met, but to feel its absence or worse it's turn to something cold and dark since The Attack on Haven, that was infinitely worse.

"Sorry, I ...I know you do everything you can." He mumbled.

"Sorry that was beneath me," Evelyn Trevelyan grunted, "That Orlaisian noble, Marquis deSomething-or-other sent several bottles. I've had a few, more then a few if I'm honest."

"I remember him," Blackwall replied, "Sara wanted to shoot him in the-"

"I was there," Trevelyan snapped, "Took everything I had to talk her down."

"Another pampered noble," Blackwall snorted, "pushing around those he thinks are beneath him?"

"You do recall that **I'm** a noble?" Trevelyan snorted, "if it weren't for the magic, my life would've been very different."

"Sipping wines and entertaining foolish twits?" Blackwall replied. "That's not you."

"The gowns and corsets were kind of fun." Evelyn sighed, "but once the Templars came calling, all that ended."

Evelyn assumed a high screechy voice that sent chills down the warrior's spine. "A Trevelyan does their duty," she shrilled before returning to her normal voice, "my Great Aunt Lucille told me that. She was constantly reminding me of my position, rank, and responsibilities."

"I can't picture you tolerating those soft headed idiots, not for very long at any rate," he snorted. "Besides, I've heard what noble women get up to during those quiet ladies salons."

Evelyn blushed. "We bored pampered noble women need something to do when we've no strapping muscular men around to lift heavy things for us," she replied.

Blackwall laughed, he seen this woman leap on top of a raging high dragon and cut it down with terrifying ease. Iron Bull, that Qunari mercenary captain openly joked he was hiding behind Trevelyan the next dragon they hunted.

"But I doubt you came up here so I could throw overpriced booze at you, what's up?"

Blackwall exhaled, this was going to get ugly but it was necessary.

"I'd like you to reconsider punishing that Venetori Magister."

"Erimond?" Trevelyan replied, "-What? You'd like me to reconsider Tranquility, to what? Exile?"

"The Wardens. You can give him to them, let them deal with him as they choose or just lock him up?"

"Did I ever tell you I met the mage Anders."

"Really?"

"I was on a field trip, we stopped at Vigils Keep for resupply. This was before he left the Wardens and fled to Kirkwall."

"What was he like?"

"Handsome ... dashing, like out of the tales you read as a child," Evelyn sighed. "I don't want to sound like a girly-girl but I was hoping when we met that you'd be sort of like **him**."

"I hope I wasn't too disappointing." The warrior chuckled good-naturedly.

"Nothing I couldn't get over," Trevelyan replied with a bawdy wink. "Anyway, my templar minders, one of them walked over to him and shook his hand."

"Really?!"

"The Templar had family in Amaranthine. When Warden Commander Amell saved the city, Anders was at her side," Evelyn replied. "Wish more mages were like you. He said that. To Anders."

"Wasn't this the same mage who escaped the Circle tower at Calanhad a half dozen times."

"Eight, actually," Evelyn sighed. "Anyway, Anders turns to him, points at me and says for all you know she might be like me and if she wasn't piss scared of you templars, she could be."

"Sounds like a smartass."

"I thought he was incredible. I wanted what he had. One day, I said to myself, templars will shake my hand and show me some respect."

"A noble goal."

"I worked hard. Every spell that was too tricky, every theorem I couldn't grasp... I just reminded myself what I was working towards. Then I heard about Kirkwall."

"The Mages Underground and the Chantry explosion."

"A dozen people dead including the Grand Cleric."

"What does this have to do with Erimond?"

"Somewhere out there is another little girl who admires that ...man." Blackwall couldn't help noticing the disgust in her voice. "I want that little girl to know what happens when you think power grants privilege."

"I heard about Anders, what he did, what they say he was. If that templar had struck him down all the good Anders did before the end might not have happened."

"Your point?"

"I saw the look on your face as you sentenced him," Blackwall replied. "You enjoyed his fear."

Trevelyan hugged herself. "Many good Wardens are dead because of him," she snarled.

Blackwall heard it then, that tone of voice that was all too familiar. Someone repeating words that they'd said a million times before all the better to convince themselves of their truth.

"And torturing him by making him tranquil won't change that."

"But the next Erimond will think twice."

"Or more likely, someone terrified of Inquisitor Trevelyan's wrath will **become** the next Erimond."

Trevelyan scoffed.

Blackwall countered, "I've seen it happen." He replied, "Good men who might never have done harm in their lives take up the sword because they were frightened."

"I don't need to hear this."

"I think you do. Erimond's evil doesn't make you good. There's been enough evil and terror in the world."

"What's the alternative? Erimond isn't exactly the hug-it-out kind of guy," Evelyn replied sharply. "By the way, where was this righteous indignation when I conscripted the mages."

Blackwall reached out and grabbed Evelyn's arm.

"That was for a purpose not to satisfy some petty desire for vengeance."

She looked at him coldly, "There's nothing petty about my need for revenge," she snarled before slapping his hand away as if it was a bug.

"So you admit that you just wanted payback, The Inquisition's justice has to be about more than personal vengeance."

"You didn't order a good man to stay in The Fade to buy the others time to escape. Stroud's blood is on Erimond's hands."

"There's ways to make Erimond pay for his crimes that don't lower us to his level."

"Don't worry Warden Blackwall," Trevelyan scoffed. "You won't have to get your hands dirty, I made the choice and I'll live with it like I always do."

He turned to the stairs. "I bet there was a time when the Anders you met at Vigils Keep couldn't have imagined hurting a fly never mind blowing up a Chantry. It is the little choices you make along the way that lead a man to glory or to ruin."

"Well, he made his choices didn't he?"

"So did you. Did that little girl at Vigils Keep think for one second she'd be standing here condemning a man to Tranquility essentially for standing up to her."

"That's not why I'm doing this!"

"Isn't It? I saw how angry his petty defiance made you, everyone saw it. You wanted him to be afraid of you so you sentenced him to the one thing mages fear above all others."

"You think I'm a monster?"

"A monster? No... not a monster," he paused. "But you're definitely not the woman I met in the Hinterlands."

"She had to watch friends die to stop a mad man."

Blackwall grimaced. "I remember what you saw ...what you say you saw in that twisted version of our future."

Trevelyan hugged herself shuddering. "You and the others died after spending a year being tortured by people like Erimond; died to save me."

"The girl I met in the Hinterlands, the girl who chased rams across the grasslands for a whole day just to feed starving civilians. That girl was strong. She didn't need to indulge vengeance to save lives."

"That girl lost Haven," Trevelyan snapped. "And she sat back and watched while Clarel slit the throat of the girl **we** convinced to join The Wardens."

"That wasn't your fault."

"If you're finished, you can return to you post Warden Blackwall," Trevelyan hissed.

Blackwall looked at her sadly. "As you wish Inquisitor Trevelyan, " he replied. "You are, after all, ìn charge."

The warrior departed leaving Trevelyan alone with more questions then answers. She snatched up the bottle of wine taking a long pull. She thought about Erimond and Blackwall, but mostly about the little girl at Vigils Keep.

Blackwall was right. She'd have been horrified once to see a man condemned to Tranquility and she never imagined giving the order. She looked into the fireplace and saw that little girl's frightened eyes looking back, "Scared of what you have to do, or what you had to become to do it?" Trevelyan whispered.

She looked at the report she'd been reviewing when Blackwall interrupted her. Cassandra had summarized their off-the-books mission to discover the true fate of the Seekers of Truth.

Seeker Lambert had gone insane, all but destroyed The Seekers with some mad scheme to remake the world into a paradise. The man had revealed at the end. That the Rite of Tranquility, the greatest weapon mundanes had to rein in dangerous mages was reversible. They'd always known yet kept the secret of how to do it from mages already chafing under The Chantry's controls.

Even now Fiona's mages were protesting the sentence of Tranquility seeking to save Erimond's mind and magic. Not out of any loyalty to the magister, instead their concern was the broader implication that a mage, one of their own, was willing to use that most fearsome of tools as an instrument of punishment.

Ironically nothing would please Evelyn more than to restore the minds and magic to so many who had been needlessly branded dangerous and forced to undergo the Rite.

She'd known a few back in Ostwick.

Gerald a fellow apprentice, whose terrible nightmares were seen by the templars as proof he wouldn't be able to control himself.

It was her own mentor who discovered the truth after the Rite had already been carried out. Gerald had been a victim of terrible abuse as a child. He still went back to that place in his mind night after night. Ironically the coming of the templars had actually freed him from bondage in every sense save one.

How many Geralds were out there, minds cleansed of emotion not out of malicious intent but simple misunderstanding of what they really needed.

But the dark part of her, the part that Blackwall clearly saw and rightly feared, raged at the thought of criminals like Erimond escaping justice, no, call it what it was, her vengeance.

She stood up straightened her clothing squared her shoulders and hurled the report into the fire watching the billowing fireball belch into the air.

Until the full ramifications of a cure for Tranquility could be known revealing the truth was reckless. But to allow someone like Erimond to escape justice was ... the thought was abhorrent to her.

Leilana, Cassandra, even Iron Bull, they'd all done ruthless and vicious things to protect the Inquisition, to protect its soldiers, to protect Trevelyan herself. Did she have any right to ask them to sacrifice friends, allies, their very sense of right and wrong then turn around and give any less?

"We are Trevelyans," Aunt Lucille had said. "And Trevelyans do their duty no matter how hard. If you remember that then I'll be proud of you no matter what you accomplish child."

She was Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan and she would do her duty, no matter how hard.


	2. Trevelyan 2 Iron Bull Disapproves

_**The Iron Bull Disapproves**_

8

9

8

"Boss you want to grab a drink with me and my boys?"

The Qunari merc Iron Bull clapped a large imposing hand on the Grand Inquisitor's shoulder. Of course there was little about the seven foot tall Qunari powerhouse that wasn't imposing.

Evelyn grimaced, "Are you sure that's such a good idea?" The mage replied.

"Come on boss it'll be good for you," Iron Bull chuckled.

"I don't know" Trevelyan replied, "I've got million things to do not the least of which is dealing with that castle we occupied in Crestwood."

"Kind of to be expected when you bring the Maker's own wrath down on the local bandits."

"Taking over that castle they were using requires a crap load of red tape." Evie replied, "I've got a minor Ferelden Lord claiming right of ownership on the castle and demanding rent for our occupation of **his** property."

"...conveniently forgetting about the thugs who were squatting in there before we showed up."

"He thanks us for our intervention but that he can't be seen as being too accommodating to the upstart Herald of Andraste."

"I assume Josie is taking care of it."

"Dispatched a letter to King Alistair. He'll do what he can but he's got problems of his own."

"What's up?"

"When I committed our forces to aiding Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven the idiot turned around and committed his forces to razing Kirkwall to the ground, which presents a problem as Varric and Hawke's friends still live there; the Guard Captain is basically Viscount in all but name. The only one they could turn to was King Alistair so he's forced to play diplomat with Sebastian on one side and Aveline on the other. He's kind of pissed about that."

"What's Sabastian's problem?"

"Aveline won't hand over what few rogue mages still live in Kirkwall or give Sabastian information on where Anders fled."

"You mean the same rogue mage that started the whole damn war in the first place?"

Trevelyn nodded, "Rogue Mage and ex-Grey Warden; a point Josephine has brought up to Ferelden's King and Queen." She remarked dryly, "to call them unsympathetic really doesn't capture how much they don't give a toss."

"So no time for socializing." Bull stated.

"Not unless someone's magically created a whole extra hour in the day I wasn't told about."

"Hmm, that's kind of what I said to Kreme de la Kreme."

"Kreme de la Kreme?"

"You know, Cremisius Aclassi my second-in-command. You two are always chatting up a storm whenever you've got a minute or two."

Evelyn felt warm blood rush to her cheeks and the smirk on Bull's face made it obvious he'd seen it too.

"I'm just getting his advice on how best to use the Chargers." Trevelyan countered quickly.

"-and pestering him for stories about our jobs?" Bull smirked, "I guess we would seem exciting to someone who's spent most of their life in a Circle Mage Tower."

"Alright," Evelyn grumbled, "but if I end up drunk on that wyvern piss you call booze again, I'm ordering Josephine to dock you a day's pay for every minute of my next hangover."

Iron Bull laughed, "That's the spirit, at least you're still going to drink it!" he replied. "Do me a favor though, Krem's already nervous about drinking with the Grand Inquisitor, if the other merc bands hear about it, well, let's just say that it would be good if you could dress down a little."

Evelyn held up her left hand, faintly glowing with ethereal fire. It was this, named the Anchor by Corypheus himself, that allowed Trevelyan the power to open and close the hundreds of demonic rifts created by The Breach.

Evie snorted. "How am I supposed to not be me," she snorted. "I'm the Herald of bloody Andraste, I kind of stand out."

Iron Bull stepped back and looked at her as if examining a blank canvas on which he was going to create a masterpiece.

"You'd be surprised what a change of clothes and hair will do for making a difference in how you see a someone, especially a woman."

8

9

8

Evelyn sat in the Herald's Rest Tavern wearing a simple merc uniform. Strapped to her side was a cheap looking sword and shield.

Iron Bull introduced her to the rest of The Chargers, Rocky, Skinner, Grimm, Stitches, Dalish, and of course Krem.

"You look good your Grace, ... I mean Trevelyn," Krem replied.

Evie shook her head, "Evelyn Trevelyan is head of The Inquisition," she replied. "My name is Rasaan, just another sellsword."

"Rasaan?" Iron Bull asked, "how did you get to know that title?"

"Dad would sometimes call my Great Aunt Lucille that," Trevelyn muttered. "I'm lead to understand it's actually a Qunari title."

"Nice," Bull chuckled.

He wondered if Trevelyan knew of the significance of the name. It also answered another question Bull had had since meeting Evelyn. How a powerful Saarebas especially one who looked as good as she did could have survived outside the Circle Tower so comfortably.

"For a mage you really know your weapons." Krem remarked, "most mages I know can't tie a sword to save their lives."

My dad was teaching me the sword when I was old enough to hold one. He made the practices into a game. Thank The Maker, it makes all my lessons with Commander Helena go faster."

Evie had styled her snow white hair into two tightly coiled buns piled up on top of her head. She'd wrapped up her head with an elven cowl currently popular among elves and wannabe elves alike. She'd even slathered on all concealing face paint in a design oddly reminiscent of Dalish vasselin.

The overall effect was that she was another wannabe Dalish mercenary.

"What's up with that if I can ask?" Krem whispered. "It's like people hate elves but it's like the first thing they do when they go on the run is to go native, why?"

"Trying to pass themselves as something they aren't," Evie answered quickly.

Krem grimaced "What's that mean?" He replied sounding anxious.

"Dalish Elves are the only ones who don't hate mages on sight and even they only barely tolerate the ones who are elven."

Krem looked at Dalish who nodded with a resentful sneer.

"I have no sympathy for the whining human mages do about The Circle of Magi or templars," the Chargers resident mage answered. "There's worse things than being locked in a tower with people like that Cullen fellow."

"Yeah," Iron Bull muttered darkly, "much much worse."

Krem was saved from asking what he meant when a small trio joined the group.

A Chantry Sister and two soldiers, mercenaries to judge by their rough look and low end armor. Evelyn made a mental note that she'd look into getting better arms and armor for her front line troopers.

Iron Bull introduced the trio to the group, though obviously the introduction was more for Trevelyn's benefit.

"I wanted to thank you for your help," the sister gushed. "your healer's poultice, it was a gift from the Maker himself,"

Evie wondered if anyone failed to notice that her praise and admiration, best directed to Stitches the medic, was instead given to Iron Bull. And the sister's gaze looked as if it was all she could do not jump on top of The Qunari mercenary captain. As it was, she was sitting close enough to run her admiring hands over Bull's muscular arms.

"I enjoy the thanks of the Chantry," Bull chuckled. "I saw you guys out in the courtyard."

"Mira... from Jader, well near Jader" the woman replied.

"Tanner from Ferelden," her companion announced. "I joined up after the Inquisitor saved my farm hold from the damn mages and templars."

"What about you? Mira. What do you think of this Corypheus asshole."

"Don't know what to think. My mistress was at the conclave, she died with everyone else when the divine blew up. Now there's a hole in the sky and demons are everywhere and the Inquisitor's the only one doing anything about it all."

"What about you, Sister?" Bull teased. "Got to be wierd following a mage as head of the armies of the faith?"

"I had my doubts at first," the holy woman muttered. "But I saw her fight that ...that dragon thing at Haven one of my lay sisters saw her save someone from the bar in Haven. She held up a burning building long enough for people to get to safety."

Trevelyn coughed and choked loudly to cover her laughter at the bald faced exaggeration.

"Who's your silent friend?" Tanner asked looking at Trevelyan suspiciously.

"That's Rasaan," Bull lied with the smooth effortless skill of a Ben-Hassrath, "she and Krem are kind of a thing."

8

9

8

The drinks flowed and more mercenaries stopped at their table. Evelyn heard from the troops, stuff that wouldn't be in any report from Cullen Leliana or Josephine.

Soldiers like Tanner and Mira needed a solid win after Haven.

A few were nervous following a mage as Inquisitor but since The Herald seemed like "one of the good ones" they were mostly fine with it.

Everyone could tell what the Chantry Sister needed and from the way Bull had been chuckling whilst carrying her to his rooms, she was going to get it.

By coincidence the barmaid who'd worked the tavern in Haven passed by. She was pressed to repeat the tale of The Inquisitor's rescue.

Evie barely recognized herself in the bar maid's story of The Inquisitor facing down an army of demonic savages before a daring rescue following a duel against the strongest of the fiends in single combat.

She and Krem laughed about it hours later as Krem walked her through the gloomy corridors of Skyhold that lead to the palatial rooms set aside for the Inquisitor.

"-Varric runs in, snatches the barmaid, and we'd barely escaped when he turns to the woman and casual as you please says ... so any chance you'll let that bartab go?"

"What did she say?"

"Any chance of you paying that tab before that dragon eats you?"

Their laughter took them up the stairs and into the Inquisitor's rooms.

A comfortable covered bed sat in one corner an ornate desk in another. A roaring fireplace faced a plush couch that still allowed a view of the balcony and the mountains beyond.

"Nice," Krem muttered, " maybe I should look into becoming an Inquisitor."

"Jobs all yours if you want it," Trevelyn snorted, "You just have to survive the many many people who want to kill you."

"You've got that Tevinter mage up in the library, Dorian I think his name is?" Krem replied, "has he told you how seriously the Imperium takes familial obligation!"

"It came up in conversation."

"My mother arranged for me to get married. A nice boy so I'm told. Good family, when I decided I didn't want to live a lie, she .. it didn't end well."

"Dorian's and his family don't see eye to eye about a great many things guess they hate that he won't be a good little Magister."

"Sounds like my mother, she really hated it that I wouldn't pretend."

"I think Great Aunt Lucille hated it when I started showing signs of being a mage but it was more being afraid for me rather than being afraid of me."

Evelyn broke out the wine and they talked until the small hours.

"So this was fun." Krem whispered as they watched the fire in the room's fireplace burn low.

"No offense but I wish Bull hadn't done this."

"Why, didn't you have fun?" Krem asked nervously.

"Oh I had a great time," Trevelyn replied, "and tomorrow Bull Vivienne Cassandra and I are headed for the Winter Palace."

"I heard, The Chargers are helping secure the palace."

Krem watched as Evie stared into the fireplace

"It was bad enough I'm having to play The Game, if I screw up tomorrow night now I'll know every person who might end up dead on a first name basis."


	3. Trevelyan 3,Iron Bull Approves

**Iron Bull Approves**

"You're asking her to dance, no biggie, " Krem muttered. "One dance, no big deal."

It was nothing, the Winter Palace, The Winter fucking Palace in front of Empress Celene and the whole Maker damned Orlesian Noble Court.

The Inquisition was there to stop a civil war.

Ok, technically, they were supposed to be preventing the assassination of the current ruler Empress Celene Valmont. Celene was locked in a bitter struggle for power with her cousin Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons.

As near as Krem could figure, helping Gaspard take the throne of Orlais accomplished the goal of ending civil strife. They were at war and perhaps the best person to be leading a country at war was not a woman who seemed more comfortable throwing parties like this one arranged by her cousin and Gaspard's sister Florianne de Chalons.

Still Cremisius was but a simple sellsword, those kinds of decisions were above his pay grade, way way above.

Krem saw Trevelyan enter the ballroom when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Trust me Krem de la Kreme, you may want to sit this one out," Iron Bull rumbled.

Krem watched as Grand Duchess Florianne intercepted Evelyn pulling her onto the ballroom dance floor, doubtlessly so they could speak without being eavesdropped upon.

"Flo's people have been watching for the boss all night long." Iron Bull grunted.

Krem had little doubt his boss was right he was Ben-Hassrath after all. You had to be good at reading rooms like this one to make it as a Qunari spy.

"Is she in trouble?" Cremisius asked.

"She's fine, you're the one who might be out of your depth."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take a look,"

Krem watched as Evelyn effortlessly danced, almost floating across the floor. The crowd gasping in worshipful adoration.

Krem gaped. "Where'd a Free Marcher who basically grew up as an Ostwick Circle Mage learn to dance like an Orlesian noble?"

"Probably from that Great Aunt Lucille Trevelyan," Bull replied.

"The one she called Russian or whatever it was."

"The word was Rasaan," Iron Bull corrected while they watched Trevelyan dance. "The old woman found out she had a mage in the family. When that happens you got two choices then, either you hand over the baby knowing what happens to Saarebas even among the Bas or you go on the run."

Krem watched as Evelyn dipped Florianne to the enthusiastic applause of the crowd.

"Since they don't teach Orlesian Dance moves in any mercenary camp I've ever spent time in I think we know what The Rasaan decided."

"What's a Rasaan?"

Krem watched as Trevelyan and Florianne walked off the dance floor.

"Rasaan are in charge, basically they can tell the Arishok when to take a piss. The ones not running the Ben-Hassrath usually are in charge of the re-educators. You heard her the other night, she practiced her fighting techniques with her father, while they were play fighting."

"So?"

"The re-educators often use simple children's games to teach complex tasks; dance, diplomacy, strategy, tactics, You want to know why she's so good at commanding the inquisition troops like she was born to do it; because her whole life her Great Aunt was probably training and preparing her for it without her ever noticing."

"You make that sound like… not a good thing."

"Did you see her out there. Not a missed step, not a hesitation. She knows the steps without even thinking about it."

"Meaning?"

"Her Aunt likely taught her all a noblewoman needs to know about command and discipline before turning her over to whatever jumped up hedge mage taught her magic."

"She told me that her parents were afraid for her."

"Saarebas aren't well known for their self control or discipline," Bull warned.

Krem hung back as Trevelyan briefed them on her conversation. They were joined by Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen. Vivienne lurked at Trevelyan's side as she had throughout this mission. Krem couldn't help thinking that the posh mage had some hidden agenda.

"Florianne seemed to be pointing the finger at her brother Gaspard." Evelyn sighed.

Cassandra nodded, "We already know a council emissary was killed tonight by a blade with Gaspard's family crest."

"Which implies Gaspard's guilt but does that mean he really is guilty." Evie muttered thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking boss?" Iron Bull grunted.

"Auntie Lucille used to say that there is no dagger more dangerous than the one you refuse to see."

"My respect for your Aunt Lucille grows by leaps and bounds, Darling." Vivienne chuckled.

Trevelyan nodded. "No one takes the throne tonight without The Council of Heralds; not Gaspard and not Celene." she explained.

"Even Briala needs them intact," Leilana mused.

"Why would an elven spy mistress care about the Council?" Cullen snorted.

"The Half of the Council that don't own enough servants to fill a slum is probably getting a little Elven rough on the side," Leilana explained. "And who do you think gets a full report every time someone plays chase the rabbit with a chambermaid?"

"And yet one of the council lies dead, killed by someone who doesn't have to worry about losing council support." Josephine replied.

"-because they already have a more powerful ally," Evelyn Trevelyan answered. "Perhaps even a demon army to back their grab for power."

"Florianne," Cullen snapped. "And Gaspard doesn't have a clue."

"But why send us to the Royal Guest Quarters?" Josephine wanted to know.

"Likely a trap," Leilana mused.

Trevelyan nodded, "I was thinking she'll try and kill me for Corypheus but hopefully be chatty enough to have proof of her treachery neither Gaspard or Celene can ignore."

"Too bad you can't make it so Florianne incriminates herself before the entire royal court." Krem snorted.

"That's a good idea Krem." Evelyn sighed, "I don't suppose you know how I can make it happen do you?"

"I might have something for you." Leliana replied, digging into her pack. "Those memory crystals we used to eavesdrop on Calpernia, take one with you when you confront Florianne."

8

9

8

A half hour later an elven maid crept into the hall where she sought out Cullen who immediately asked Cremisius to look after her.

Krem gratefully excused himself from the dreadful Fifi and Babbette de Launcet so he could guard the elven serving girl. Krem found himself standing with her while she nervously glanced about.

"So, what's your story then?" the mercenary asked.

"I worked for Briala, she sent me to search Duchess Florianne's rooms in the royal quarters. Someone tried to kill me but the Inquisitor, she saved me."

"She does that.. .a lot, actually." Krem replied.

"Perhaps she really was sent by Blessed Andraste." The girl whispered.

The tone of reverence and awe was all too familiar. Small wonder Trevelyan seemed to avoid it so.

"Try not to say that around her, she hates the attention ...a lot." Krem warned her delicately.

They watched as Florianne de Chalons minced into the room quickly racing to Celene's side where she'd been since the evening began.

The other Chargers looked to Krem for a lead but the young soldier shrugged. Suddenly the hall exploded in talk as Trevelyan lead a small group consisting of Cassandra Vivienne and Iron Bull into the room.

They looked like they'd been in battle, well everyone except for Vivienne who somehow made being covered in blood and demon ichor seem like the latest in Orlesian fashion.

Iron Bull actually winked in their direction.

Bull was confident, that alone had to mean that the Maker's own Hell was about to break loose.

Krem slid closer to the group but caught only the tail end of the conversation with a bemused Cullen as Trevelyan marched across the dance floor towards the podium.

"Grand Duchess," Trevelyan announced loudly. "The eyes of the Empire are upon you. Smile, it's your party after all, you wouldn't want people to think you'd lost control."

"Inquisitor," Florienne replied. "Who wouldn't be delighted to speak with you?"

"That's quite a change from the royal gardens. There you seemed perturbed at my... how did you put it? Oh yes, my meddling."

"I'm quite sure you misheard any conversation we might have had. You Marchers are so delightfully under equipped to deal with the subtlety of The Game."

Evelyn ignored the collective gasps of shock and titters of derisive laughter echoing through the room.

"You make a good point Grand Duchess, my Great Aunt Lucille once said that the key to surviving The Game is to never say anything you cannot repeat in front of the imperial presence itself. Fortunately we in the Inquisition have ways to ensure that all conversation is remembered exactly as it happened… Madame de Fer if you would?"

"Celene, you'll enjoy this I promise." Lady Vivienne chortled as she channeled power into a crystal in her palm. The ghostly forms of Grand Duchess Florianne and Evie rose above the ballroom.

"...but you're Orlesian Royalty, why work with Corypheus?" Ghost-Trevelyan was asking.

"Why settle for a mere empire when Corypheus will make me a queen with more power then Celene could ever dream of. Power I won't have to share it with that blowhard Gaspard. I'll have beaten him in every way." Ghost-Florianne replied.

Krem saw Celene and Gaspard glaring angrily, first at Florianne's ghostly form then at her.

"So this wasn't for your brother?" Ghost-Evelyn could be heard asking.

"How naive you are Inquisitor, Gaspard desires to rule over an empire of traitors and schemers. Once Corypheus' demon army has purged this festering sore of every fat useless noble, I'll show those left the extent of my mercy as that traitorous scum grovel for my favor."

There was an angry murmur among the crowd of nobles, men and women who'd been courting her favor hours ago were watching her with harsh eyes.

Florienne looked around desperately, "Gaspard this is an Inquisition trick. I swear to you I would never betray you."

It was as if the Maker that Florianne did not believe in chose that moment specifically.

"You framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary. You practically handed his head to me." Ghost-Evelyn accused.

"When I kill Celene," Ghost-Florianne boasted, "those fools on the Council of Heralds will want my brother to replace her."

Krem cringed, he looked at Celene and saw a cold fury he'd never seen before.

"Only by making it look like Gaspard's treason included taking out the Council can there be enough chaos that Corypheus army can roll over Orlais unopposed." Florienne's ghostly form finished boasting.

"Good thing nobody would ever believe Gaspard would openly threaten or bully the Council of Heralds." Empress Celene sneered with obvious sarcasm.

A few nobles openly snickered.

Gaspard grimaced at the derisive mockery but turned to several palace guards signaling to them. They moved towards the panicking Florianne.

Florianne was obviously afraid, maybe for the first time in a long time she was remembering who she was plotting against; a very dangerous woman in the heart of her power base. A fact her many opponents forgot at their own great peril.

"This is a trick, ...a lie… I demand a fair trial!" The fearful Dutchess yelled.

Krem could see the amused grin on Briala's face. "I think we all know that any official proceedings would be a sham to mask your attempts to find allies among the how did you put it? Oh yes, 'fat useless nobles'" the elf sneered.

"Indeed, I doubt Corypheus will be very forgiving of your failure to seize 'this festering sore' in his name." Celene snarled.

The Chevaliers grabbed Florianne who fought her way free, running towards her brother and cousin. But it was obvious there would be little mercy for her from those two.

Evelyn grabbed Florianne. The Duchess panicked, shoving against Evelyn while openly weeping.

"Choose Florianne, your cousin's mercy or ..." Trevelyan trailed off.

Cremisius knew what Trevelyan was offering to the Grand Duchess, a quick and painless death now or a slow torturous interrogation followed by a humiliating public trial she'd be expected to avoid by committing suicide by slow poison.

Florianne looked into Evelyn's eyes and finally collapsed in sorrowful defeat. Evelyn pulled her close. "Ah, Florianne, you played The Game **and you lost**." she hissed.

A bright light lanced through the Grand Duchess. She gurgled painfully even as Trevelyan pulled her Spirit Blade out of Florianne's twitching body.

The room was filled with gasps, roars of outrage, some real most merely feigned, and a few men and women fainting; including the de Launcet Twins who managed to collapse into the arms of the bored noble boys they'd settled on.

Krem barely registered the crowds reaction his eyes were locked on Trevelyan.

"I think the imperial presence has endured enough without adding the humiliation of public disgrace to the mix." Evelyn hissed.

The Inquisitor dropped the Dutchess body to the floor.

Turning to the trio, the Inquisitor glared powerfully at Celene, Gaspard and Briala.

"If the royal personages would join me outside on the terrace, I think we have much to discuss."

Krem watched as the three most powerful people in Orlais moved quickly at the word of Inquisitor. A quick glance around the room told Krem the rest of the nobles had seen it too.

Evelyn Trevelyan had won The Game, tonight anyway.

8

9

8

Krem positioned himself outside of the terrace where Orlais fate was decided.

Celene and Gaspard bickered back and forth until a harsh whisper from the Inquisitor brought their fighting to an end.

Evelyn explained Florianne's plot and how it would've fit in with Corypheus' long term goals. Then curiously she identified Briala as the Inquisition's accomplice. This was news to Krem but the elven spy mistress quickly ran with the story. Krem watched as Celene and Briala embraced, reunited, their love rekindled.

Celene turned on her cousin, she triumphantly passed judgment on Gaspard but again Trevelyan held up a restraining hand. Their voices got quiet again.

"I'd be careful if I were you," a sultry voice whispered.

Krem looked around and saw a dark haired woman that had appeared almost as if by magic. She was dressed in a red gown that in another life Cremisius might've wanted to wear. if he'd ever possessed the figure to make such a thing work.

"Excuse me?" Cremisius answered.

"Take it from one who knows,"She replied, "you never want to be too close to those in power during moments such as these."

Krem finally noticed that her eyes had a odd golden colour. Combined with her amused smirk and catty demeanor Krem got the impression he was being toyed with.

"I'm pretty sure Inquisitor Trevelyan can handle it." He answered wary of her though not entirely sure why.

"Oh I'm quite sure she can as well, tis you that might be out of your depth."

"I'll be fine, Miss- ...?"

"You may call me Morrigan," she replied with an insolent bow,"and if I were you I'd talk to that spy mistress of yours, Leilana. She knows the cost of falling in love with those touched by destiny."

As if Krem was close enough to Lady Leilana to inquire about her personal affairs. Still scuttlebutt had her dating the Hero of Ferelden, how bad could it possibly be to be with the Warden Commander who stopped the Fifth Blight and saved Amaranthine.

"I'll take that under advisement," Cremisius answered dryly.

Morrigan folded her arms and sighed as if watching a play she'd seen far too many times.

"No, I suspect that you will not." she replied gazing at him. "still tis not my place to ruin another's fun no matter how short lived it may be."

8

9

8

Krem followed Evelyn out to the terrace, she was exchanging words with the same dark eyed temptress that Krem had been speaking with earlier.

"What's that about?" he asked. When she departed with nary a glance at Krem.

"That is Celene taking official interest in the Inquisition," Trevelyan replied. "Morrigan is to be her eyes and ears while providing us with any and all magical assistance we might require."

"Wasn't that Lady Vivienne's job?"

"Morrigan knows things that fall outside of traditional Circle Mage knowledge, we're going to need her help before this is over."

"You look exhausted," Krem replied. "You should be happier, you just negotiated an end to Orlais' idiotic civil war."

"-By betraying everything I should hold dear."

"What do you mean?"

"I put Briala and Celene back together even knowing how toxic that little situation was and could be again."

"From all I've heard they're happy together. They love each other."

"Celene ordered Briala's home Alienage burned to the ground with her people... her parents inside," Evie replied. "And Briala was actually plotting against her, but it creates unity and right now I need everyone standing together."

"What about Gaspard?"

"Celene wanted him dead. I managed to talk her down to a kind of exile. It's not a kindness. Everyone knows Florianne outplayed him, it'll be years before he'll be able to recover from that humiliation. As it is, he's to take a small squad and assist the Inquisition in securing the Emerald Graves and the Exalted Plains."

"I guess me and The Chargers will have our work cut out for us if we don't want anyone showing us up."

"You have nothing to worry about Krem, I need you guys with me right where you are. I'll need back up when we liberate Emprise du Lion."

"Listen, I was wondering if I could ask you to dance?"

"You want to dance, ... with me?" Trevelyan sounded doubtful.

"I figured after all the crap you've dealt with tonight you're owed at least one dance that's not about politics, intrigue or trying to impress bored nobles trying to one up each other." Krem insisted.

Deep down Krem feared her response even as he held out a beckoning hand.

However instead of mocking him or dismissing him,Evelyn took hold of that hand. They began to move together, spinning slowly.

"Thank you Krem. I, I really appreciate your help, with everything." Trevelyan said in a whisper.

"Thank you, Inquisitor."

"Krem if we're going to keep dancing I'd prefer it if you'd call me Evelyn or Evie... Trevelyan is even ok."

"Evie? There are people who call you Evie?"

"Well, they're people I prefer NOT to gut with a magic sword so there's that."

"That's not exactly encouraging, your worship."

"Try anyway, please."

"Ok, ...Evie."

Krem relaxed and held on to the beautiful woman in his arms so caught up in the joy of the dancing it took Krem awhile before he noticed.

Trevelyan was leading.


End file.
